Chapter 17
Evelyn
My anxiety increases with every passing second as we ride the elevator down to the mezzanine level of Duarte’s personal nightclub. Massimo told me that the drug lord loves to party, and he has a clandestine club in his own building.
We won’t venture out into the open, beyond Duarte’s defenses. That means it’s unlikely that I’ll get an opportunity to slip away from the cartel.
But I won’t dare make a scene in front of a bunch of criminals, and my compliance has little to do with the fact that Massimo teased me to the edge of erotic madness.
I plan to assess my surroundings and remain as small and unobtrusive as possible for the next few hours. I’ve dealt with cartel members before, on the night the Zetas kidnapped me. Massimo said Duarte won’t allow anyone to harm me, but I don’t intend to test that.
I edge closer to him, pressing my body against his powerful form. His big hand spans the small of my back, sending a pulse of warmth through me.
“You’re all right, dolcezza. No one will dare to touch you.”
He drops a kiss on the slightly tender spot on my shoulder, where I bear the mark of his teeth.
He’s chosen a daring red silk gown for me that leaves it on display, and I didn’t put up a fuss.
If his claim protects me from being victimized by the cartel again, I’ll gladly let everyone know I’m here with Massimo.
The elevator doors slide open, revealing the VIP area of Duarte’s club.
Low music with a deep, sensual beat pulses through the sleek space.
In contrast to the sumptuous antique furniture and ornate crown molding in the suite upstairs, the club is thoroughly modern.
A balcony allows revelers to look down on the throng partying on the ground level, and the opposite wall is lined with mirrors.
Golden lights illuminate the empty dance floor—the guests are gathered near the polished ebony bar, socializing for the moment.
“Stay with me,” Massimo commands, steering me toward the small crowd with his hand firmly on my back.
I huff an irritated breath at being ordered around, but I’m too nervous to defy him. I have no intention of leaving his side, so there’s no point arguing.
My footsteps stall slightly as we near the other guests—the other criminals.
Massimo’s thumb traces soothing circles over my bare skin that’s exposed by the low back of the silky dress. I can’t suppress a shiver, and my core pulses despite my budding fear; it’s not strong enough to quell the lingering desire from his wicked mouth on me.
My cheeks burn at the memory, and I glance over to find him smirking at me. He’s far too smug and pleased with himself for reducing me to a panting mess.
I purse my lips in irritation, holding in acerbic words. Challenging Massimo would definitely attract attention, and that’s the last thing I want.
“You’re being such a good girl for me.” His thumb continues to trace lazy patterns on my back, stoking the heat at my core despite my indignation. “You’ll get your reward soon.”
An outraged sound like a small growl rumbles in my throat.
He chuckles in response, as though he’s thrilled at our game. He’s enjoying playing with me.
I cling to my anger as we approach the cartel members. It’s so much easier to bear than debilitating fear.
I glance over at him again, and he winks at me.
Oh. Is he goading me on purpose? To distract me from feeling fear?
Between the puzzle of this gorgeous man and the lingering pulse between my legs, I’m definitely distracted. I don’t have any room in my mind for terror to take hold, not when my infuriating, alluring protector is toying with me.
“Massimo.” A woman greets him warmly. “It’s so good to see you. And your lovely guest.”
My attention snaps from him to the raven-haired beauty who’s striding toward us, the crowd of men parting for her.
She moves with the grace of a jungle cat, her walk a smooth, confident saunter.
The guests either respect or fear this woman, judging by the way none of them look directly at her as she passes them.
She has a regal bearing about her, and I imagine she’d look quite natural wearing a crown.
Caramel eyes framed in thick, dark lashes assess me, memorizing my face before dipping to the mark on my shoulder. Her rosebud mouth pinches in a small frown, and her eyes are cold when she turns them back on Massimo.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” she asks pointedly.
Massimo’s hand flexes against my back, but he offers her a smile that’s dazzling enough to knock the air from my chest.
“It’s wonderful to see you, too, Carmen. Thank you for inviting us.”
She doesn’t appear charmed. A single dark brow arches, expectant.
“This is Evelyn,” he introduces me.
It seems he doesn’t have a choice. Whoever Carmen is, she holds power here, and Massimo is her guest.
“Evelyn,” she repeats, my name heavy with condemnation.
She eyes the mark on my neck again, and I barely resist the urge to sweep my hair over my shoulder to cover it.
“It’s good to meet you,” she tells me, her voice a touch warmer. Moving with smooth grace, she loops her arm through mine as though we’re best friends. “Let me get you a drink. We have an excellent selection of mezcal.”
She tugs me away from Massimo, but he simply follows, as though his hand is attached to my back by a magnet.
“Not you, Massimo.” She waves him away, flicking her fingers in an imperious gesture. “Stefano is eager to talk to you. Evelyn and I can get to know one another while you two catch up.”
“I’m sure you’ll want to be present for that,” Massimo protests smoothly. “We can all have a drink together.”
Carmen lets out a melodic laugh that grates down my spine; there’s no real humor in that laugh, only warning that her patience is wearing thin.
“We’ll join you soon enough. Please entertain Stefano before he gets too bored. You don’t know how difficult he can be when he’s bored.” She makes a pained expression, dramatically put-upon. “It’s past time for the party to get started, and he’s been waiting for you.”
My stomach flips. I edge closer to him, and Carmen notes the small shift. The smile she offers me is kind, genuine.
“I just want to talk,” she assures me. “No one here will harm you.”
She says it as though it’s a guarantee, something within her power to promise.
Who is this woman? She obviously knows Massimo, and she’s mentioned Stefano Duarte twice. She has to be associated with the cartel, but she’s looking at me with soft concern.
My heart skips a beat. Carmen clearly holds sway here. If I get her on my side, she might let me leave. No one will have to get hurt, and I’ll be free to return to America, away from cartel violence.
“Okay,” I agree, stepping away from Massimo to join Carmen. His fingers linger on my back as I break contact, as though he doesn’t want to let me go. “Let’s talk.”
“Carmen—” Massimo begins, her name a low growl.
“Stefano is waiting.” She cuts him off breezily and steers me away from him, guiding me to a quieter corner where we can have a private conversation.
I glance back at Massimo and find him scowling at Carmen.
Another man steps in front of him, creating a barrier between us with his body.
Massimo is broader and taller, but he doesn’t toss the man out of his way to get to me.
Instead, that dazzling smile slides back into place, and his focus shifts to address the slightly smaller man.
“Don’t worry about Massimo.” Carmen pats my hand in comfort before she extricates her arm from mine.
She settles herself in a plush red leather armchair, and despite her powerful aura and regal poise, her sharply beautiful features soften when she looks at me.
“You’re Evelyn Day,” she says.
It isn’t a question.
My mouth goes dry. “How do you know my name?”
She purses her lips, but her distaste doesn’t seem to be directed at me. “I make it my business to familiarize myself with my enemies and the people close to them. You’re George Crawford’s fiancée, aren’t you?”
I swallow hard. Maybe I’ve made a terrible mistake in thinking that Carmen might be on my side.
“I didn’t know anything about his involvement with Los Zetas,” I say quickly.
Even now, admitting to the fact that George is corrupt sends pain knifing through my heart.
“I believe you,” she replies, placating.
“My concern now isn’t with Crawford; it’s with Massimo.
” She glances pointedly at the bite mark.
“Is he mistreating you?” Her eyes stare at something I can’t see, and all the warmth drains out of them.
“I will not stand by and do nothing if there’s an abusive man in my home. ”
Her home? She lives here—with Stefano. She’s definitely associated with the cartel, even if she’s currently concerned for my wellbeing.
When I don’t answer right away, her eyes narrow, her gaze spearing Massimo like daggers flung across the room.
“I don’t care if it’s an insult to the Camorra. I will kill him for violating you.”
The Camorra. So, Massimo is with the mafia. I’d already known, but the confirmation makes my blood run cold.
“I’m going to tell my husband to take our charming Italian guest to the basement. Stefano will make sure he regrets touching you before he finally allows him to die.”
“What?” I gasp, horror chasing away my conflict over Massimo’s criminal lifestyle.
If Stefano is Carmen’s husband, it’s no wonder she wields so much power here. She wants to order Massimo’s execution, and the drug lord will carry out the sentence.
“No! Massimo didn’t rape me. I…” The admission that I’d enjoyed every deviant moment of his erotic game sticks in my throat, too humiliating to utter.
“He saved me,” I say instead. “He’s been protecting me.”
Carmen’s gaze snaps back to mine, considering me.
“I see,” she says after a moment. “I understand that desire can be…complicated. If you’re with him consensually, I won’t say another word about it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m with him,” I counter. “I mean, he saved me from George and Los Zetas. And he hasn’t forced himself on me.” My cheeks warm, but I continue on, “But I don’t want to be here. I told him I want to leave, and he won’t let me go.”
Hope buds in my chest. Carmen cares about my wellbeing. She cares about my consent.
“Will you help me?”
She cocks her head at me, long, wavy hair swaying around her lovely face. “What is it that you want? To be away from Massimo? You just said he’s protecting you. And you’ve been with him willingly.”
She eyes the bite mark again, a pointed reminder of the fact that I eagerly kissed my captor and welcomed him to ravage me.
I breathe through my embarrassment and plead my case. “I just want to get back to Albuquerque. I can’t stay here.”
“Why?” she asks, a soft challenge.
I consider my next words carefully. She’s Stefano Duarte’s wife. I can’t risk pissing her off.
“I don’t have anything to do with the cartels, and I don’t want to. If you help me get out of here, I will leave Mexico City and go back home to America, where I belong.”
Her jaw firms. “You became associated with the cartels because of your fiancé’s poor choices.
I understand that’s not your fault, but that doesn’t change the facts.
You’ve been in my home. You’ve seen my face.
You know who I am and what I do. I can’t risk sending you back to the American authorities. ”
“I won’t say a word to anyone, I swear.” I try to reason with her. “I would be dead if it weren’t for Massimo. That’s not a debt I can repay. I would never betray him, and there’s no way I could tell the DEA about you without involving him. You have nothing to fear from me.”
She laughs softly, genuinely amused. “I know I don’t.
I don’t think you could hurt a fly. But I didn’t get this far by taking stupid risks.
I have an empire to run, and I don’t intend to lose it.
I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am, to be happy.
I brought you over here to speak to you privately, so that I could find out if Massimo is abusing you.
He’s not. In your own words, he’s protecting you from Crawford and Los Zetas.
There’s no need for me to be worried about you staying with him. ”
“I’m not staying with him,” I say bluntly. “I’m his captive.”
She shrugs. “Life is full of gray areas. The situation can be as difficult as you choose to make it. Believe me, I know.”
“What do you mean?”
She eyes the man who’s still blocking Massimo’s path to us, her lips curving with unmistakable affection.
“Let’s just say that my relationship with Stefano had an unconventional start.
” She sighs and makes a point of looking for a server.
“Where is our mezcal? Honestly, you’d think they’d know to serve the women first. Come on.
” She grasps my hand and stands, directing me toward the bar.
“Let’s get back to the men before Massimo decides to stop playing nice and drags you away from me. ”
Our conversation is clearly over. The cool queen is back, the concerned woman disappearing behind her regal mask. Carmen is satisfied that I’m not in immediate danger, and she won’t do anything more to help me.
She hums conspiratorially as we near Massimo.
“He is a big one, isn’t he? Stay close to him.
With his mark on your neck, no one will dare to breathe the same air as you.
I would tell you to come talk to me if anyone bothers you, but I have a feeling they wouldn’t be alive by the time you got to me. ”
She sobers slightly, her coy smile firming to something more serious. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He would kill every man in this room to get to you. Massimo will keep you safe, Evelyn. That’s what matters. He might even make you happy, if you let him.”
I don’t have time to formulate a reply before we reach the men, and Massimo’s hand settles on the small of my back once again.